Killing Chivalry

Chapter 25 - A Moment For Recovery

When she opened her eyes, the daylight was shining through a green window, leaving a sparkling trail across the wood floor. The house was silent.

She sat up. A blanket had been thrown over her at some point. Pushing it aside, she stood and stretched before making her way to the stairs. She climbed carefully down to the room below. Rynesomme was nowhere to be found and the knight was still sleeping soundly on the bed in the corner.

On the table was another bowl of food and a glass with fruit juice. She sat and ate, then moved over to his bed.

Koeska's blanket had shifted down his chest in the night, and she pulled it gently up to his shoulders again. His face was peaceful, his breathing gentle and slow. She settled herself down on the floor next to the low bed and rested her head against his arm.

There was a tightness in her chest at the sight of him, and her eyes stung. She'd almost lost him. He was throwing himself into these fights and barely coming out the other side at times. It was like he didn't care whether he lived through it or not, only that he defeated the enemy.

Was it to protect her? Was it to finish his quest?

Maybe he'd just given up on everything else and death didn't seem so bad anymore. He'd lost his family so tragically, and so much weight had been put on his shoulders with this demon-killing heritage... it'd be enough to break almost anyone. Was this recklessness? Or desperation?

She wished they hadn't been able to find a way back to his world. That he could have escaped whatever this destiny was. Lived normal lives.

She sniffled.

No. He wouldn't have wanted that.

#

She must have nodded off, because the next thing she knew the Qemsono's voice startled her enough to make her jump. She looked up at him and rubbed the heel of her hand across her eyes.

"You're in the way, girl."

Scooting backward, she watched the little man check over the knight's wounds, rub an ointment onto the half-healed bites, then cover him back up. As he moved away, he called over his shoulder.

"There's a path around the back that leads to a stream. Take a walk or something."

She nodded, but Rynesomme wasn't watching her at all. Pushing herself to her feet, she went outside and realized it was close to noon and the sun glared brightly down on the clearing.

She walked around the house and to a trail that led a short distance into the trees before opening up and continuing on across a little footbridge like a scene out of a quaint country painting. Sighing, she sat on the footbridge, staring down into the stream. Small silver fish darted under the water and the sun reflected from the ripples caused by the gentle current.

The bell-like sounds were here, even though she couldn't see the wisps. It was like the kind of music you heard in massage parlors... meditative... relaxing. She knew if she wasn't careful she'd fall asleep sitting on the bridge and land in the creek.

She laughed to herself when she thought about how she'd explain that one to the Qemsono. He didn't seem the joking sort. He reminded her of a cranky neighbor she'd known as a child.

She spent some time thinking about her own world and the people she'd left there. The one she missed the most was actually her cat. Guess that said something about her life thus far. With a sigh, she stood and made her way back down the path to the treehouse, walking quietly inside.

Rynesomme was bent down near the fireplace, and where she'd expected to see a glow of flame she saw instead a green light. She walked closer, trying to look over his shoulder.